


It All Started With Tea Time

by oneshotsbygabby



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Curse, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Based on a Tumblr Post, Explicit Language, F/M, Jefferson is a barista, Pregnant Reader, Protective Jefferson, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Tea Shop Owner Jefferson, single parent jefferson, this whole thing is an au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2019-11-29 02:51:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18217199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneshotsbygabby/pseuds/oneshotsbygabby
Summary: You've had the worst day ever, so you decide to stop into the town's famous tea shop to cheer yourself up. You don't think your day can get any better -- but that's when you meethim.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, a couple of things. Firstly this is based on [this](http://bucky-plums-barnes.tumblr.com/post/182055936148/baristajefferson-owns-his-own-tea-shoppe-and-you) over [here](http://bucky-plums-barnes.tumblr.com/). I saw it and just had to write it.
> 
> Also, I am not very far into Once Upon A Time. Just started last week, I just started season 2 yesterday, so I'm not one hundred percent sure how well I can write Jefferson, so I'm sorry if he seems a little OOC. I'm sure I'll improve as time goes by.

You sniffle as you walk down the street. You had passed the _Mad Hatter Tea Shoppe_ several times over the past few years, all the time it's been open, but never had a reason to go in there before. But you needed something comforting after the bullshit of a day you'd had and decided to go in there anyway.

You decided to take a seat at a table and look through the menu that was on the tabletop. You had heard so many people talk about the genius behind the terrific teas at this shop but had never actually met him or had any of the teas that they served.

Even a small decision like this made you want to cry your eyes out.

As you're looking through the menu, you don't realize he's watching you. He'd seen you around town before -- in a tiny town, people tend to know everybody. It can't be helped. And Jefferson had seen you around before, but you never came into his shop before. But it looked like you could use some tea.

And maybe a hug and some comfort, but, after all, the two of you _were_ strangers, so he wasn't going to offer you that.

He asked his waitress and business partner, Alice, if she would cover the front while he went over and talked to you. While she cocked an eyebrow, she didn't say anything; she'd owned the tea shop with him long enough to know that, at times, he could be kind of peculiar.

"Can I help you?" he asks you softly as he stands in front of your table. You hadn't even heard him approach, so it startled you a little, and you sighed.

"I don't know what's good," you answer him, watching him closely. "This is my first time here. Why don't you just bring me your favorite tea and pastry?"

He nods, and says to you, "Sure, doll. It's on the house, too; you look like you could use it."

You rub a hand over your face. You had no idea what you were going to do. Part of you wanted to run and hide, not to face the world at all, but the other part of you knew that you had so much to do.

Even with all the shit life threw your way, you'd survived. Well, at times you'd _barely_ survived, but you were still alive, and that had to count for something. Your parents were a nightmare, you had a hard time making friends, and you dated the same asshole all throughout high school, just for him to cut it and run just earlier this week.

As soon as he'd found out you were pregnant.

You were living in a shitty studio apartment down by the railroad tracks, because you got it for super-cheap, mostly because nobody wanted it and the owner had to settle. You didn't have much for materialistic things -- you didn't even have a fucking TV. It was no place to raise a child, that was true, but you had nowhere else to go.

Your thoughts were cut short when you heard the man come back. He poured your tea and handed you a pastry, and then asked, "Can I sit?"

You look up at him curiously. He chuckles at the question in your glance.

"You just look like you need someone to talk to, sugar. And I can do that. I've heard I'm a terrific listener."

You nod, motioning to the chair. When you take a bite of the pastry, you swear you hear your taste buds sing. It tastes fucking _amazing_ , and, you're not sure how he did it, but this is exactly what you've been wanting since the pregnancy cravings had started.

"How'd you know?" you ask him, and he looks at you quizzically, so you decide to elaborate. "This is what I've been craving for _days_. How'd you know?"

"Just luck, I guess," he says, smiling softly at you. "How do you like it?"

"It's terrific," you moan out as you take another bite.

"So, what's got you looking so forlorn?" he asks you. "Maybe talking about it might make you feel better."

You take a drink of your tea as you say, "Just found out I'm pregnant. The father didn't want anything to do with me and a baby, so he ran. My parents disowned me when they found out I'm pregnant out of wedlock, and the place I'm living is the only one I can afford right now, but nowhere near nice enough for a baby. I just feel like things are really terrible right now."

"Well, maybe they can't get any worse?" he offers, looking deep into your eyes. His eyes are a stormy blue that are absolutely gorgeous, and you find yourself getting lost in them.

"Never say that," you say to him. "No matter how bad things are, they can _always_ get worse."

He nods. "I'll keep that in mind."

The two of you sit there and chat for a while, him refilling your tea four times and going back to bring you a couple more pastries. After the second, you try to get him to let you pay him for them, but he refuses.

"The shop does really good business," he says to you, handing you your pastry, "and I can afford it. Besides, it really looks like you need it."

"Been on my own a long time," you say to him. "My parents didn't _officially_ disown me until last week, but they weren't exactly stellar before that. And I've been taking care of myself, because sometimes you just gotta save yourself. I don't get to splurge on myself very often."

"You know," he says conversationally as you take a drink of your tea, "I have an apartment upstairs, above the shop. I have an extra bedroom that you could rent out -- I mean, if you wanted to. It'd be a safe place for you to stay and, if you wanted to stay that long, it'd be a nice place for your baby to live, when they arrive."

You're hesitating, and Jefferson can see the look on your face, so he shrugs. "It's up to you, sweetheart. You know where to find me -- just let me know."

You nod. It's a few hours later that you're leaving his shop, and as soon as you reach your apartment, you start boxing things up. Even though you haven't officially made up your mind, subconsciously, you're leaning towards moving in with him, even though you barely know him.

You return back to his shop the next day. You've noticed before how he opens the shop every day, almost like it's his life, and it's always open by eight in the morning.

You're not sleeping very well these days, and only get about three or four hours a night, so you deliberately wait until a little after eight-thirty to go into the shop. You want to make sure he isn't busy before you go to talk to him, and as soon as you step foot into his shop, he grins at you.

"Nice to see you again, petal," he says, and you notice the term of endearment, but aren't sure how to respond to it. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, I'd like a mug of whatever tea I had yesterday, and then you and I need to have a talk."

He nods. "Take a seat over there," he says, waving his hand around the mostly-empty shop. "Wherever you want. The tea will be out in a moment."

You nod. You take a seat at a random table by a window and wait for a few moments.

Maybe you're making the wrong decision here. You had to fight your way through life, and you've learned through some really hard and horrible life lessons that you can't trust everybody you meet, but there's something about him. His eyes are so honest, and you want to trust him.

But you've learned that your heart can steer you wrong so many times.

The one thing that you live by, the one thing that has never led you wrong, is following your gut. Your heart may want to believe every sob story that there is, but you know that if something is wrong, if you pay attention to that gut instinct you have, you'll survive. In fact, it's actually saved your life more than once.

When Jefferson shows up with your tea, he sets it down on the tabletop in front of you and then takes a seat across from you. "By the way, we never covered it yesterday, but the name's Jefferson," he says to you with a smile. "What's yours?"

"Y/N," you say, and you can feel the blush color your cheeks when you admit, "but I kind of like 'petal.'"

He grins at you, "Great. So, what do you want to talk about?"

"Were you being serious when you offered a room to rent in your apartment?" you ask, getting straight to the point. "Because I wasn't sure if I was going to accept your offer or not, but when I went home last night, I realized that I started boxing things up."

He nods. "I was being completely serious," he answers you. "I'm sure we can agree on a price."

You two spend the next couple of hours together, talking about renting expenses, and at noon, he's walking you the couple of blocks over to the nearest diner to pick up something to eat. "You need to take care of yourself, because of the baby," he answers your unasked question, "and I've spent several hours with you between yesterday and today, and I have yet to see you eat something that isn't a sugary pastry."

"I don't have a lot of money," you admit. You hadn't wanted to admit it to anyone, how little money you had, how hard it was to find a job while pregnant, and how you were barely eating right now. You'd get by eventually; it was something you always did.

"Well, lunch is on me," he says. The two of you take a seat at a booth and order lunch. Jefferson acts like he doesn't trust you to eat enough, so he orders double of what he wants, just in case you're still hungry. You laugh at his antics.

"How can you be so okay with this?" you ask, watching him closely. "This isn't even your baby, so I'm not sure why you're being so overprotective."

"Because sometimes people need help. It doesn't matter who you are, _everyone_ needs someone they can depend on. And it doesn't seem like you've ever had that, so you're getting it now."

You smile at his kindness. "Thank you," you say earnestly. "I mean it. I really appreciate it."

He just grins back at you.

***

It's decided that you will move in on that Saturday. You didn't have much, just a couple of bags; the furniture that you'd been using had been the landlord's, so you don't even have a bed or anything to sleep on.

Jefferson already knows this, however. You told him that you could just sleep on the couch, but he has other ideas. When you arrive at the apartment, he leads you to your room and you notice there's a queen-sized bed in there already.

"You need to be comfortable," was his answer to your inquiring glance. "It's going to be really important right now, since you're pregnant." Once again, you wanted to ask him how he knew about it, but that's when you heard the baby cry.

"Sorry," he says to you apologetically, "just a second." He goes into the next room over, and, out of curiosity, you follow him. That's when you see her.

She must be two, if you had to guess, with soft brown curls and dark brown eyes. She was adorable, and while Jefferson had mentioned he had a daughter, you didn't realize she _lived_ there.

He leans down to whisper soothing words into his daughter's ear, and she rolls over and goes back to sleep, and when Jefferson returns, he notices your stare at his little girl.

"That's Grace," he says to you. "She's my daughter."

"You didn't mention that she lived here," you mused, even though you realize how ridiculous it sounded. He had a daughter, of fucking course she lived there. Jefferson just nods.

"Her mother left, a long time ago. It's just been her and me ever since. I hope you don't mind."

You shake your head. "Nah," you say. "I was just surprised. It'll be nice to be somewhere where it isn't just me and my problems."

He nods.

You're doing that thing he hates -- the self-deprecating thing that you tend to do whenever you get stressed. You have a bit of self-loathing in you, something he guesses that your parents often did to you.

As you watch his eyes, you realize that, somehow, he always knows the right thing to say, and this is definitely no different. He watches you, his gaze tender.

"Don't worry, Y/N," he says to you softly, soothingly. "You're safe here."

And for the first time in your entire life, you actually felt it.


	2. Chapter 2

You had been living with Jefferson for about a week before the morning sickness started.

You were four weeks pregnant and hadn't had any problems with morning sickness yet, so it took you by surprise. There had been some tales of people who didn't have to go through morning sickness at all, so you were hoping that you could go without it.

No such luck.

At five AM, you had been awoken violently and made it to the bathroom _just_ before your body expelled everything that was in your stomach like it had been offended. You were about midway through when you felt his presence and a hand on your back, rubbing circles soothingly on it. You could feel the tears start to leak from your eyes and tried really hard not to cry but felt so goddamned awful.

"It's okay, petal," Jefferson was saying to you in hushed tones. "You're going to be okay."

Once you were finished, you took a couple of breaths before looking at Jefferson. It didn't matter how many times you looked into his eyes, they took you aback every fucking time. You loved his eyes so much.

You got up and brushed your teeth and rinsed your mouth with mouthwash to get that disgusting taste out of your mouth. Once you felt a lot better and your mouth tasted better, Jefferson put his hands on your shoulders and turned you so he could wrap his arms around your middle.

"Sorry if I woke you," you apologized as you cuddled into his embrace. "I didn't mean to."

"This the first of it?" he wondered. You shook your head.

"It's been going on for a few days. The other times I've gotten sick is when you were tending to the shop."

He nods. "You didn't wake me," he said, in answer to your comment. "I was already up, checking on Grace. Are you okay?"

"I will be," you mumbled into Jefferson's chest.

"Hey, look at me," he ordered softly, and you did as he asked, looking up into his eyes. When he had your gaze, he continued, "I'm sorry you're going through this, and I'm really sorry that you are going through it alone. But don't think about it like that, okay? I'm here with you, every step of the way."

"You shouldn't have to be, though," you answer, your arms hesitant about hugging him. It was almost like he knew what was going through your head and didn't want you to feel like that. "This isn't your kid."

"I know it's not," he agreed, wrapping his arms around you once more. "But I'm here for you, Y/N. For whatever you need and if you are feeling badly about something, come to me, alright?"

You nod.

"C'mon," he says after a moment, and you look at him curiously. "Come and lie with me for a while. We'll cuddle until I have to get ready to open the shop."

You were a little confused at why he wanted to cuddle with you, but you weren't going to question a good thing when it was staring you in the face. You decided to just roll with it.

***

Since you'd been living with Jefferson and Grace, you'd started watching her during the day while Jefferson was in the shop; that way, he didn't have to pay for childcare. It hadn't taken you very long to get attached to the little girl, and you absolutely adored taking care of her.

Jefferson gave you a break on a little bit of the rent since you were willing to take care of his daughter while he was working. You had quickly become accustomed to taking care of her and learned the specifics of everything. She and Jefferson had a routine and you quickly learned what it was and how to do things the way Grace wanted them done -- just like her daddy did them.

You had been living with Jefferson for almost three weeks when he asked you out. To say you were shocked would have been putting it mildly. You loved hanging out with Jefferson, and even sometimes went down to the shop with a baby monitor in hand, just in case Grace woke up from her nap, and hung out with Jefferson.

He was a great guy, and his mind was focused on one thing -- Grace. He loved his daughter with everything he had, and while it really made you melt to see it, it also made you grieve a little -- that was something that your little peanut was never going to have. Your ex left you _because_ you were pregnant, and your baby was never going to know their dad. Sometimes it was enough to make you break down and cry, although you tried really hard not to let it show.

Your emotions were going out of control these days. You thought about what Jefferson had with Grace, and how much he adored her and wanted what was best for his daughter, and it made you envious. Your child was never going to have that -- they were just going to have you. And yeah, you were going to love your baby with everything you had, but they deserved more, and you weren't sure they were ever going to get it.

And why would Jefferson ever want your child, anyway? It wasn't like they were his.

"I think you should wear the green one," Ruby was saying to you that afternoon. She was going to babysit Grace that evening while you and Jefferson went out on your first date.

Ruby and her granny lived in a house down the street from the tea shop. Granny had a diner on the corner, and you'd been there several times, and because you went there so often, you and Ruby had formed a friendship. She was a great girl and the two of you had become close quickly, and you had brought her around and Jefferson trusted her with his daughter -- which wasn't something that happened lightly. Jefferson didn't trust _just anyone_ with Grace.

You were standing in front of your closet, a green dress in one hand and a red one in the other. You were two months along and not showing very much, but did happen to have a tiny bump. You start to strip yourself of your t-shirt and sweatpants before throwing the dress over your head.

You take a look at yourself in the full-length mirror that was on the back of your closet door. You smooth out the dress and twirl around so you can see yourself in the back.

It was a deep green midi dress with a V-neck that didn't dip _too_ low. It was short, the skirt flowy, and you really liked the way it looked on your body. Your bump wasn't very big, just slightly visible, and it didn't look like you were trying to force your way into something that just wasn't going to work for your pregnancy.

"How do you like it?" you ask Ruby as you turn around to look at her. She made a circle with her finger, so you know that she wants you to spin around, and you do so.

"You look hot, Y/N," she says, grinning at you. "He's gonna think you're gorgeous."

You blush and rub the back of your neck, and that's a telltale sign that you're embarrassed. She chuckles a little, leaning in to blow a raspberry on the back of Grace's neck, who's sitting on her lap. Grace giggles and you sigh heavily.

"Come, sit with us," Ruby says to you, and you grab a bottle of nail polish out of the basket on top of your dresser before doing as she asked.

When you were a child, you had a terrible habit of biting your nails; you would bite them down so far your fingers would bleed, and when you entered high school, you decided you didn't want to be in pain all the time. Your fingers constantly hurt, and you didn't want that anymore, so you just quit cold turkey.

You'd been told that nobody can just stop biting their nails, but you managed. It had been a nervous habit, and in order to keep yourself from doing it ever again, you had taken to painting them. It wasn't very far in-between colors, and so, after you grabbed a bottle of silver polish, you sit down across from Ruby on your bed, where she was sitting cross-legged with Grace on her lap.

You're so nervous you're practically shaking and Ruby sighs, "Let me."

You hand her the polish and lean down to give Grace a kiss on the temple. It doesn't take very long for her to paint your nails; that's the thing about Ruby that really irritates you -- it does't take her very long to paint your nails, and when they're finished, they're done almost flawlessly.

She puts a top coat on them -- it's something you always insist on, because, even if it isn't true, you think that it makes the color last longer. Bringing your hands to your lips, you blow on your nails, hoping that it makes the paint dry faster.

"You've got this, Y/N," Ruby says to you. You know that she can tell how nervous you are, and she pats your arm a couple of times before rubbing your arm up and down. You can tell she's trying to be soothing, but it just makes you worry more and more.

"I don't know, Ruby," you sigh. She hands Grace over to you and you give her a kiss on her chubby cheek. She giggles and your gaze softens as you look at the baby girl.

"You're so good with her," Ruby observes. "You're going to be an amazing mother."

"I'm worried," you admit. "Not just my date with Jefferson. I really like him, and I love living here and taking care of Grace, but at the same time, I see what they have. Jefferson loves his daughter and wants to give her the world." You can't help the tears that are collecting in your eyes and are thankful you haven't done your makeup yet. "My baby's not gonna have that. Whether it's a boy or a girl, I'm going to love them with everything I have, but it's not going to be enough. They're always going to wonder why they weren't enough to make him stay."

You wipe at your eyes, thankful that your nails are dry since you didn't even check to see if they were before putting your hands to your face. You see that Grace must notice you're upset, because she turns around and wraps her arms around your neck. You give her a big hug, and, after you pull back, she looks at you with her wide brown eyes.

"Y/N, sad," she mentions. You notice that Grace doesn't talk a whole lot, but Jefferson was never worried about it. He always told you that he was sure she'd speak when she had something to say.

"I'll be okay, sweetheart," you say, and she looks at you with her wide, expressive eyes. She smiles at you.

"You shouldn't worry about it, Y/N," Ruby says after a moment. "It's going to be okay -- you'll see."

***

Jefferson liked to stay at the tea shop as long as it was open every day, but he had to get ready for your date.

He'd liked you since he first laid eyes on you. You were funny, and sweet, and oh so nice. You cared for Grace like she was your own and you loved to talk with him.

And when the two of you talked, it was like you were connecting. Jefferson had been with people in the past who didn't really listen to him when he talked, who just kind of let him go on, but you _did_ pay attention. You loved hearing about his day, and his likes and dislikes, and things he wanted to accomplish with his life.

He felt like, whenever he was around you, he didn't have to pretend. He could be who he really was.

After getting dressed for the night, he started towards your room, but then he heard a snippet of your conversation with Ruby.

"I'm worried," you were saying to her. He leans against the wall outside your doorway and eavesdrops, even though he was sure that he shouldn't be doing that. "Not just my date with Jefferson. I really like him, and I love living here and taking care of Grace, but at the same time, I see what they have. Jefferson loves his daughter and wants to give her the world." You continue talking to Ruby, but he zones out for a moment. He heard the emotion in your voice and wonders if you're crying.

"My baby's not gonna have that," you were saying when Jefferson started listening to you again. "Whether it's a boy or a girl, I'm going to love them with everything I have, but it's not going to be enough. They're always going to wonder why they weren't enough to make him stay."

His heart feels for you. For your unborn child. He wants to rush into your room and gather you up into a big hug, but he doesn't want you to know that he'd been listening to you. He didn't want you to think he was untrustworthy. He didn't want you to think that he'd been listening to you on purpose -- even if that had been precisely what he'd been doing.

He sneaks away from your room to splash some water on his face before looking at himself. All of the sudden, his nerves don't seem to be all that important. He just wants to go with you, to hold you and let you know that everything's going to be alright.

And that's _exactly_ what he plans on doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can see the dress I tried describing [here](https://www.lulus.com/products/hello-world-dark-green-midi-dress/379472.html).


End file.
